Glitter in the Air
by Zohh
Summary: Santana Lopez's not-so-typical life is slowly being revealed.  Slight crossover with "Grey's Anatomy." Will contain Santana/Brittany and bits of Callie/Arizona.
1. Introductions

**Author's note: **Okay. I probably shouldn't be doing this. But I am. Ever since the first mention of having Sara Ramirez play Santana's aunt (whether as her _Grey's Anatomy _character Callie or a completely different character), I've had this idea in my head of how it could pan out.

Much like my other AU story, I currently have no idea if I will bother to continue this. I should actually be working on said other AU story, but...there's a hurricane going on and I move into college in the next two days, so...yeah.

This first part is just a set-up for the rest. Bare with me.

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><p>Santana Lopez had a younger sister. Not the typical, "two years apart" younger sibling, but rather, the not-so-typical, "fourteen years apart" younger sibling. Along with her not-so-typical younger sister, Santana Lopez had not-so-typical young parents. She was entering her senior year of high school and her parents were still in their thirties.<p>

Very few people in the glee club, let alone the entire school, knew about Santana's family. She had mentioned that her father was a doctor and that she grew up on "the wrong side of the tracks," but that had been the extent of it.

Sam had been the first to question the existence of Lima Heights Adjacent, which he did so during their brief dating stint, but all Santana did was scoff and continue to devour his lips. If anyone had bothered to look at a map (which Santana doubted that anyone in the glee club knew how to actually read), they could see that Lima Heights actually existed, and it was indeed on the other side of the train tracks.

"But it's just that, you seem so rich, y'know?" Sam had explained. "You say that you're from this ghetto place, but I don't think I can believe that, what with the technology and clothes you own."

Santana was pissed that he had bothered to doubt her "ghetto heritage," but she also didn't bother to correct him.

Emilio Lopez grew up in Lima Heights Adjacent to a hard-working, yet still poor, family. He knew all about hardships and overcoming obstacles, and managed to get a scholarship to Duke University. Emilio spent over eight years at Duke, going from undergraduate student to medical student in order to become a general surgeon.

It was during his third year as a med student that Emilio Lopez fell completely and irrevocably in love with Aria Torres.

Aria Torres was from Miami, Florida, born into a wealthy family. Her father had big plans for her, and she intended to follow through with them. She wanted to become a lawyer, and the proud smile on her father's face when she had received her acceptance letter to Duke was enough to solidify her dream.

But none of her dreams or father's plans had included getting pregnant as a college freshman.

And that was where Santana came in.

Her mother had to eventually drop out of college while her father continued to power through medical school. Her wealthy grandfather had been originally unhappy with everything that had occurred, especially since Emilio was at least seven years older than his precious daughter, but soon grew to accept the events as Emilio graduated from medical school and gained job opportunities back in his home town of Lima, Ohio.

Aria was just happy that everything had worked out and Santana, well, she was only a baby at the time.

Brittany was the only one that Santana every told anything to. Sure, Quinn knew a few things from their time on the Cheerios, and Puck had actually been to her house before, but Brittany knew everything.

One time on the bus ride home from an away football game, Puck had been talking about Santana's mother and referred to her as a MILF. Brittany, who had been sitting with Santana and Quinn a few seats up, turned around and said, "You should see her aunt."

"Dude, Lopez, you have a hot aunt, too?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Puckerman. I hardly ever see her; she lives all the way in like, Seattle or something."

"So lame," Puck said, shoving his bag underneath the seat he was sharing with Finn. "What's her name?"

Santana opened her mouth to answer but Brittany interjected with, "Cally-opey."

Quinn snickered and Puck exchanged a glance with Finn.

"It's Calliope, Britt." Santana corrected, shaking her head.

Brittany scrunched her nose. "Oh, right." She turned around again to face the football players. "I saw a picture of her once. She's totally hot and pretty."

"That's a hot name. What is she doin' all the way in Seattle?" Puck asked, a tint of eagerness in his voice.

"She's like, a doctor or something. I think she's an orthopedic surgeon."

"She does surgeries on feet?" Finn asked, receiving a glare from Quinn.

"No, you idiot," Santana snapped. "Orthopedic means bones."

Finn nodded and Puck laughed at him.

Puck, Quinn, and Brittany remained to be the only ones to know anything about Santana's family (it wasn't like Finn could remember anything from one bus ride conversation). They knew that Doctor Lopez had refurnished his childhood home in Lima Heights, adding extra rooms and a backyard pool, meaning that yes, Santana did grow up on "the wrong side of the tracks." They knew that when she was in eighth grade, Santana's mother had given birth to Clarita Lopez, making Santana an older sister. They knew that Mr. Lopez was the highest paid surgeon in all of Western Ohio and that Mrs. Lopez, unable to fully pursue her dreams of becoming a lawyer, taught political science at Wright State University.

Doctor and Mrs. Lopez were young, wealthy, hard-working, and respectable, with an older daughter that was sharp and full of potential for a bright future, and a young daughter that was thriving through her childhood.

However, Santana had a tendency to keep things hidden, which is something that she probably got from her mother.

Santana Lopez had a not-so-typical younger sister, not-so-typical young parents, not-so-typical wealthy grandparents that lived in Florida (okay, maybe that was typical), and a not-so-typical gay aunt in Seattle that her mother forbade her from ever contacting or even mentioning.

It didn't exactly help that Santana Lopez was a not-so-typical (or maybe typical; it was not like she bothered to do research, or anything) gay teenager herself.


	2. Thirteen is a Big Deal

**Author's note: **Okay. Just to clarify a bit: as of right now, this story is only a _slight_ crossover with _Grey's Anatomy_. Everything takes place in the Gleeverse and any _Grey's Anatomy_ character is just simply mentioned. Really, it's just only Callie's character. Later on, her character may become more important and will play a bigger role, but I'm thinking that I want this story to just really be Santana-centric. If you aren't familiar with Callie's character/_Grey's_ in general, just tell me and I can give you a recap of Callie's story line in concision to this story.

There's a reason why I titled the story _Glitter in the Air_.

(Also: I don't want to beg for them, but I like reviews, too.)

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><p>"How are you not cold?" Santana asked, tightening her jacket that said <em>Junior Cheerios<em> on the back around herself.

Brittany shrugged. "I thought the long socks would help." She was wearing a pair of shorts with striped socks that reached her knees and her own _Junior Cheerios_ jacket hanging loosely around her arms.

"You should know better, Britt. It's February."

"I don't know how to read calenders."

Santana rolled her eyes. "C'mon, we're almost at my house, anyway." She took off at a jog.

Brittany caught up to her, saying, "Your neighborhood is scary,"

"Only at night," Santana said. "Besides, you're with me."

"Are you my protector? Like a knight in one of those fairy tales?" Brittany asked, holding on to the straps of her backpack.

Santana slowed down her jog, having reached her driveway, and cracked a smile. "Somethin' like that."

They walked up the steps into Santana's house, leaving their shoes, jackets, and backpacks by the front door. The house was warm and the kitchen radio was blaring some classic rock station.

"It's so cozy in here," Brittany said, sliding her feet along the wooden floor. "Is there someone home?"

"My mom doesn't have classes on Friday," Santana explained, walking into the kitchen only to find it empty.

"Ooh! Does that mean she can drive us to the basketball game later?"

"I hope so. Puckerman's suppose to be there." Santana smirked.

Brittany giggled.

Santana frowned and called out for her mother. "Mami!"

There was no response and she rolled her eyes. "Mami! Britt and I are home!"

Brittany leaned against the stove, continuing to slide her feet across the floor. She looked up when she heard footsteps coming down the staircase and said to Santana, "I think she was just upstairs."

"¿Qué estaba pensando? Y en Las Vegas de todos los lugares!"

"Crap," Santana said, inching closer to the edge of the kitchen. "She's using Spanish."

The footsteps got louder as Mrs. Lopez bounded down the stairs, and with one final Spanish-infused comment, she hung up the phone and walking straight into where Santana was standing.

"Oh! Sorry, mija. I didn't see you there." She side-stepped her daughter and set the phone down on the kitchen table. "Hello, Brittany," she added upon seeing her daughter's friend. She pulled out a chair and was about to sit down when a thought hit her. "You're spending the night, right? While you're parents are at that convention in Cleveland?"

"Mmhmm!" Brittany smiled widely; she always liked Santana's mother and she always liked spending the night at Santana's house.

"You were speaking Spanish." Santana deadpanned, crossing her arms.

Mrs. Lopez sighed. There was no point in lying to her daughter. "I was on the phone with your abuela."

"Is everything okay?"

"Your aunt got married."

Santana quirked an eyebrow. "Tia Callie? Why is that a bad thing?"

"She eloped in Las Vegas with some intern that work at the hospital with her." Mrs. Lopez explained, shaking her head.

Santana scrunched her face and exchanged a glance with Brittany. The word "intern" made the guy sound overly young and creepy. "When's papi coming home?"

Mrs. Lopez sighed again. "Oh, not until late."

Santana frowned and Brittany pushed off of the counter and walked up next to her. Brittany shuffled her feet and Santana nudged her.

"Do you think you could drive us to the basketball game later?"

"I'm sorry, mija, but now is just not a good time." She looked at the clock on the oven and said, "I have to call your father; he should be out of surgery now." Mrs. Lopez picked up the phone again and Santana took Brittany's hand, turning around and dragging her upstairs.

Santana flopped down on her bed with a huff and Brittany flopped down right next to her. The blustery February skies casted a greyish-blueish tinge into Santana's room and all across her stark white walls. Brittany shivered, the thin material of her long-sleeved shirt not being enough to protect her against the cool air coming from the windows.

"San, can we get under the covers?"

Santana looked over at her friend, who was gripping tightly at her arms and biting her bottom lip.

"Sure," Santana lifted up her pillow and pushed down the sheet and quilt so Brittany could crawl in. She grabbed the feather comforter from the other end of the bed and pulled it up. She slid in next to Brittany, laying on her back with her arms crossed.

"Are you mad about not being able to go to the game?" Brittany asked, ever the obvious. She was curled up underneath the blankets with the comforter up all the way to her nose.

"Yeah," Santana said, uncrossing her arms. "Plus I'm a little upset about my tia."

"Why? Isn't it good that she got married? I don't know what the ear lobe had anything to do with it, though..."

Santana turned onto her side to face the blonde. "_Elope_, Britt. It means that she and the guy got married super quickly without telling anyone."

"Oh," Brittany thought for a moment, adjusting the comforter so she could breathe easier. "I think that would be fun. To just run off and get married."

"But then you wouldn't get to wear the white dress or have people cry over your happiness," Santana pointed out.

"That's true," Brittany agreed. "I want ducks to walk down my aisle!"

"Ducks?"

"Uh-huh! I think it'd be super cute to have little yellow duckies walking and quacking along with me."

Santana rolled her eyes. "I don't think any guy would let you have ducks at their wedding."

"I'll marry a girl, then."

"Ew, Britt. You can't do that. It's like, illegal, or something."

"It is?" Brittany furrowed her brow.

"Duh."

"Oh." Brittany licked her lips and tightened her grip on the blankets. "How come your tia eloped? Didn't she want to wear the white dress and have people cry over her happiness?"

"I don't know," Santana replied, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. "I like, never see her because she's so far way."

"Do you get to talk to her at all?"

"Sometimes. I wanted her to come and visit for my birthday 'cause I haven't seen her since I was seven, and turning thirteen is like, a huge deal."

Brittany tried shrugging but her cocoon of blankets was too tight. "Not really."

Santana shot up, accidentally tugging the comforter and quilt away from Brittany. "What? Britt, that's ridiculous. How can being thirteen not be awesome? You're like, a teenager now. You can practically do whatever you want."

"I still have to do all my chores and homework and stuff, and it's not like I look any different."

"Yeah, but you can do so many more things, like get your ears pierced at the mall without having your parents there, and see PG-13 movies, and you can probably even get past first base with boys."

"I already have my ears pierced, San, and we saw that movie last week without any grownups with us. Besides, I turned thirteen last month, remember? And I still haven't kissed a boy."

"What? Really?" Santana sat with her mouth slightly agape. "But you went to the winter dance with Matt Rutherford!"

"Yeah, and he didn't kiss me, and I wasn't gonna' kiss him first." Brittany sat up too, leaning against her elbow.

"So you've never kissed a boy before?"

Brittany shook her head. "I don't think I even know how to do it. Have you and Puck kissed?"

Santana's face flushed. "A few times. But, to be kinda' honest, I didn't really know what I was doing at first. He just sorta' smashed his lips into mine."

"I thought kiss was supposed to be fun and romantic," Brittany said. "It is in all the movies."

"I think you just need to practice and get good at it."

Brittany hesitated for a moment. She looked up at her best friend and pushed up from her elbow. "Do you think you could teach me?"

Santana's mouth felt dry. Brittany wanted to kiss her? "W-what?"

"Can you teach me? How to kiss?"

"Britt...we can't do that. We're both girls."

"But you're just teaching me, right? If it's just for practice, it doesn't have to count."

A heavy wind pounded against the windows; Lima was supposed to be getting snow later that night. Santana fidgeted with the tag on her green pillowcase, trying to avoid the blonde's gaze. After almost a minute of awkwardness, she gave up with a sigh, and looked down at her friend. Brittany's eyes were earnest and a shade of blue deeper than what Santana had ever seen before.

"Okay," she whispered.

Brittany smiled, but then a nervousness crept up on her, seeping from her face to her chest to the pit of her stomach. What if she was bad at kissing? What if Santana freaked out and decided that she didn't want to be her friend any more?

Another gust of wind hit the window and Santana leaned in, brushing her lips against Brittany's. As quickly as it had started, it ended, and Brittany wasn't sure if she had done it right. Santana pulled back, her tan face tinged with a red blush.

"Um, that was..."

"Bad," Brittany provided. "I don't think I'm very good."

Santana didn't say anything.

"Can we try again?" Brittany was determined to get this kissing thing down, and she really wanted Santana to help her.

Santana licked her lips; they tasted faintly like the melon LipSmackers that Brittany normally used. Another silent beat passed and she nodded.

It took two more awkward attempts until they both got it right; Brittany had tried to mimic Santana's move by leaning in, too, and almost forgot what to do with her mouth. By the fourth try, she knew not to keep her lips tight and pursed, and when Santana's lips hit hers, a warmth spread through their bodies greater than any quilt or comforter could do.

Santana closed her eyes. Kissing Brittany felt different than the times she had kissed Noah Puckerman. His lips were always chapped and he slobbered them up with spit to try and make up for it. Brittany always carried around LipSmackers and she was much softer and gentler than Puck. The warmth that spread through her from kissing Brittany made her want to get closer to the blonde, to wrap her arms around her like on television shows.

The thought scared Santana and she snapped her eyes back open, pulling back.

"Was...that better?"

Santana looked back at Brittany, her eyes still that same, deep blue. "You're a natural, Britt."

Brittany smiled again, all of her nervousness gone. "Thanks, San." She reach her arms out and enveloped Santana into a hug.

Santana returned the embrace, her face still numb and hot and her heart thudding so loud that she was surprised Brittany couldn't hear it.

"Mija!"

The two girls let go of each other and Santana slid off of the bed, her knees shaking as she walked over to the door and opened it.

"Yes?"

"I'm ordering a pizza. What do you girls want on it?"

"Oh, oh! Banana peppers and pineapple!" Brittany squealed.

Santana faked a gag and stuck out her tongue. "I get the peppers, but not the pineapple."

Brittany pouted. "I guess we can just get the peppers, then."

Santana ignored the pout and nodded. "Banana peppers," she called down to her mother.

"Do you guys want to watch a movie, too?"

Tired of having to shout down, Santana walked out of the bedroom and to the first floor landing; she could still feel her heart thumping loudly. "Hm?"

"Movie. Do you guys want to watch one when the pizza gets here?"

Brittany would want something Disney, Santana thought to herself. In exchange for the lack of pineapple on the pizza, Santana conceded with what she knew the blonde would enjoy. "Something Disney."

Her mother gave her an apprehensive look.

"What?" Santana shrugged.

Her mother said nothing and shook her head with a tiny smile.

"Is everything okay with Tia Callie?"

The smile went away and her mother stopped in her tracks. "Don't worry about that. Just enjoy your sleepover with Brittany."

Santana scoffed. "Please, Mami. Britt's here all of the time. It's nothing special."

The image of kissing Brittany still engraved in her head and the pounding still in her chest would have said otherwise.


	3. Hot Chocolate

**Author's note: **I think I have a concrete idea of where I want things to go with this. There probably won't be _Grey's Anatomy_ stuff in every chapter, but I do know that later on, Callie's character will actually play a role. This one's kind of slow, but there will definitely be more Brittany/Santana development in the next couple chapters.

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><p>Brittany had been right about turning thirteen: it wasn't that big of a deal. At least, it wasn't that big of a deal when they were in the seventh grade. Now that Brittany and Santana were in the eighth grade, everything was different—<em>better<em>. They were practically in charge of the middle school, belittling sixth graders and making every other student cower with fear. There was a certain middle school hierarchy, and Santana Lopez stood at the top of it with Brittany Pierce at her side.

But eighth grade wasn't all just about ruling the middle school; it was also about properly preparing for high school. For Santana (and by proxy, Brittany), that meant making the Cheerios, even as a freshman. In order to ensure a spot on the pyramid, that also meant becoming close and personal with McKinley High's Coach Sue Sylvester. Santana knew that she and Brittany had scored a spot on the squad for the next season; Sue Sylvester doesn't waste her time with the Junior Cheerios unless she knows there's a golden student or two, and when Coach Sylvester showed up at one of the Junior Cheerios competitions (where they effortlessly won), she acknowledged Santana and Brittany's presence, thus proving that they had a guaranteed spot.

So Santana was ready. Ready to turn another year older, to get through the eighth grade with Brittany as her said while they ruled the school, and to join the Cheerios and eventually rule the high school.

And then her mother sat her down one day after school, similar to the time when Santana was eleven and her mother tried to tell her "where babies come from."

"Mija," she said, smiling in a way that almost frightened Santana. "I have something very important that I need to tell you."

Santana dropped her backpack, eyeing her mother skeptically. "Uh. Okay."

"I was originally going to wait for your papi to get home, but he got called into an emergency surgery and won't be home 'till late."

"Wait," Santana said, stoping in her tracks before reaching the kitchen table. "Shouldn't you be at work? Don't you have a class to teach?"

Mrs. Lopez gave that same, forced and slightly frightening smiling and Santana almost flinched. "I didn't feel well this morning, so I took the day off."

"Oh." Santana nodded slowly, still incredulous. "So what's so important that you have to tell me? I was gonna' go over to Britt's house."

"Maybe you should sit down, mija."

Santana's eyes went wide. Were they moving? Was this her mother telling her that she would never get to be a Cheerio? She would never get to rule McKinley with Brittany at her side? "Mami..."

"I'm pregnant, Santy."

Before Santana could cringe at the old nickname her mother used, she gave a sigh of relief, and then gasped. "Pregnant? Like, you will be birthing another child? I'm going to have a younger sibling?"

Mrs. Lopez nodded vigorously and all of Santana's dreams came crashing down. She wouldn't be able to practice cheerleading if her mother needed help and her father was constantly at work. She wouldn't be able to go to Cheerios practice in high school if she had baby brother or sister to take care while both her parents worked. She wouldn't be able to hang out with Brittany if she had dirty diapers to change, or get to third base with Noah Puckerman, or have any social like whatsoever. A younger sibling at this age would just simply ruin Santana.

"I'm going over to Britt's house," Santana stated after about a minute of silence. "Don't worry, I'll just walk." She grabbed her Junior Cheerios jacket off of the coat hanger, picked her backpack off of the ground, and stepped out the front door without another word to her mother.

It was only a ten minute walk to Brittany's house, and the mid-October air was crisp and breezing. Santana pulled the sleeves of her jacket down over her hands and walked the whole way with her arms crossed. The storm door to the Pierce's house was already open, so Santana let herself in, dropping her backpack on the floor next to Brittany's.

"Britt?"

Brittany bounded down the stairs with her cat, Lord Tubbington, in her arms, raised and outstretched like he was Simba.

"Britt...what are you doing?" Santana asked, trying to keep her angry and stoic look.

"Oh, Santana! I thought you were the spider-man, or something, trying to steal me away" Brittany said breathlessly, bringing her cat to her chest and rubbing his cheek affectionately.

"Spiderman's a hero," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

"He is?"

Santana nodded and Brittany set Lord Tubbington down on the ground. "We should probably lock the door, in case a _real_ person tries to come in and steal us away."

Brittany went ahead and pushed the wooden door closed, turning the lock and peeking out the window to see if there was anyone outside. "All clear."

"Good." Santana gave a curt nod but ended up smiling anyway.

"I was gonna' make some hot chocolate. Want a cup?"

"Are you sure you're allowed to use the stove?"

Brittany shook her head. "My mom got me this kind that goes in the microwave, and I know how to use that."

Santana said, "I'll get the marshmallows," and Brittany grinned.

They worked in a relative silence: Santana dug into the pantry trying to find the bag of marshmallows and Brittany poured milk into two mugs, stirring in four spoonfuls of the chocolate powder.

"Britt, I have to tell you something," Santana said once the two were settled down with their hot mugs and marshmallows.

Brittany merely shrugged but the look Santana had on her face worried her. "Is everything okay, San?"

Santana sighed. "My mother is pregnant." When Brittany didn't respond and still had a blank expression on her face, Santana sighed again. "She's going to have a baby."

"You mean she already talked to the stork and everything?"

"Yeah, something like that," Santana muttered.

Brittany squealed. "That's so awesome, San! You get to be a big sister! I've always wanted to be a big sister..."

"What? Brittany, how could you say that? This is basically going to ruin my life!"

"I thought babies were a good thing..."

Santana snorted into her mug. "Please. This is, like, the worst thing ever. My dad's at work all the time, so I'm going to have to take care of my mom, and then when she goes back to work I'm going to have to take care of the little rugrat she pops out. It's going to be awful. I won't be able to be on the Cheerios or hang out with you or basically have any social life whatsoever."

Brittany looked down at her hot chocolate for a moment, swirling the tiny marshmallows around with a spoon. "I'd help you take care of your little brother or sister."

"No you won't," Santana said with an eye roll. "_You're_ gonna' be a Cheerio. Probably at the top of the pyramid and everything because you're so good."

"I don't wanna' be a Cheerio without you."

Santana's features softened and she took a sip of her drink. "You don't have to do that," she mumbled.

"I'd rather help you change diapers than do flips off of other people's backs," Brittany said, plopping a marshmallow into her mouth.

"You'd lose your social status. It's totally not worth it."

"You're worth it," Brittany said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Santana felt her face growing warm and it wasn't just from the hot chocolate. "We should get started on some of our homework."

Brittany smiled. "Can you help me with my math? I think my teacher got confused because he started putting some letters into the problems, and I didn't realize math and spelling were the same thing."

When Santana returned home, just as the sun was setting, she found her mother sitting at the kitchen table with her phone in one hand and a crumpled up tissue in the other. She sighed, dabbing at her eyes and staring down at the screen of her phone.

"Is this some sort of pregnant woman thing?" Santana asked as she walked in. "Getting all emotional and everything?"

"Oh, sorry mija." Mrs. Lopez gave a watery smile. "And you're right, being pregnant does make you more emotional. But I was just on the phone with my sister."

"Tia Callie? Is something wrong? Is she pregnant, too?"

"You remember that man she married this past February?"

Santana thought for a moment. "His name's George, or something like that, right?" She saw a picture that her Tia Callie had sent them; the two of them were standing next to each other, smiling happily in their blue scrubs outside of the hospital they worked out.

Mrs. Lopez nodded. "He cheated on her and now they're getting a divorce."

"He _what_?"

Mrs. Lopez nodded again and Santana sat down. "Apparently it was with another resident at the hospital. Poor Calliope...she already had so much to handle, what with being the chief resident, but I suppose that's what she gets for eloping..."

Santana ignored that last part. "Chief resident?"

"Mmhm, just like your papi. It means that she's in charge of all the other residents; the ones who are practicing to become surgeons."

"Oh." Santana shrugged. "I'm gonna' go upstairs now."

"Don't you want to help me with dinner?" her mother asked, standing up and throwing away her used tissue.

"I need to call Brittany."

"But you were just at her house!"

Santana ignored her mother, again, and went up to her room to call her best friend.


	4. Spinning and Spinning

**Author's note: **This is probably the longest chapter that I've ever written (which is a little pathetic because it's only just over four thousand). I usually like to keep things between one to two, sometimes nearing three thousand, but I sort of just went off with this one. I'mma tell you right now that Callie's not even mentioned in this chapter, but I do have plans for her in the next one. Pretty much, this story is basically just my headcanon for Brittana, featuring Callie from _Grey's_, and how her character affects things. I actually really can't wait until this hits the _Glee_ time line; I have so many things planned for that involving Callie. So. Stoked.

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><p>Santana scanned her eyes across the classroom of students until she landed on her teacher, Mrs. Geata, letting a bored expression take over her face. With one final sigh and her hands clasped loosely behind her back, she began.<p>

"Hola, mi nombre es Santana. Por supuesto, todos ya lo sabíamos. De todos modos, a mi familia: tengo una madre y un padre, y yo soy hijo único. Por ahora. Mi mamá está embarazada, que totalmente una mierda. Ella enseña la ciencia politicle en Wright State University, y mi padre es un cirujano en Lima Memorial Hospital, que es en realidad el jefe de residentes, lo que significa que es más o menos responsable de todos los cirujanos residentes. Tengo una tía que vive en Seattle, que también es un cirujano. Los padres de mi papá murió cuando yo era muy joven y los padres de mi madre son ricos y viven en Florida. El final."

"It's not fair," David Korofsky muttered as Santana moved from the front of the classroom to find her seat next to Brittany. "She's _fluent_ in Spanish."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Please. You're just mad because _you_ failed your speaking formative. Twice."

Mrs. Geata cleared her throat. "Yes, Santana can speak Spanish fluently, but I cannot control what classes she signs up for."

"Easy A, duh," Santana whispered to Brittany, shrugging her shoulders. Brittany giggled, covering her mouth her her hands.

"The bell is about to ring, so we'll finish the rest of the speaking formatives next week," Mrs. Geata said as everyone began packing up their binders. "Remember to finish the vocabulary for the review. The test will be later next week."

The bell ring and everyone got out of their seats, shuffling around to get to the door and out of the school; it was a Friday and the school year was ending. The hallways were jammed with students trying to get to their lockers and make it to the busses, and Santana pushed through them, parting the ways as if she were Moses with a wooden staff. She and Brittany opened their lockers in silence, pulling out their backpacks and stuffing them with binders and books.

"You're spending the night at my house after Matt's party, right?" Brittany asked as they zipped their bags up and hoisted the straps over their shoulders.

"Mmhm," Santana replied. "My stuff is still at your house from the last time I spent the night, right?"

Brittany shrugged under the weight of her bag. "Probably."

"Good. We can go straight to your house now, and then straight back after Matt's party. I hate being at home."

Brittany frowned. "Why?"

"Ugh. My mom is so annoying and dramatic now. She's due in a couple of months and all she does is complain." Santana flipped her hair back when they crossed the threshold of the middle school's front doors.

The two girls walked along the sidewalk in a group of other students who also walked home until they split off onto a path that cut through a small park. The surrounding trees were alive with new leaves and tiny blossoms had popped up on a few of them. A squirrel ran up one of the trees and Brittany pointed at it, smiling.

They continued to walk on the path in silence, their backpacks shaking lightly with every step they took. Santana abruptly stopped walking, looked up at the sky where the sun was streaming through tree branches, sneezed, and started walking again.

Brittany murmured, "Bless you," and fell back into step with her friend. After another moment of silence passed, she looked up and said, "San, do you think there's gonna' be...drinking at Matt's party?"

Santana awkwardly rifled through the side pocket of her bag while still walking and managed to pull out a tissue. She wiped her nose and said, "Frickin' allergies. And, probably not. I mean, drinking at parties is totally a high school thing. 'Sides, Matt's parents are totally gonna' be there, and there's no way they'd let a bunch of eighth graders drink."

Brittany nodded, relieved. "I wonder why he's having a party, though. 'Cause it's not his birthday and Christmas already happened."

"Because parties are cool and only cool people get invited to them," Santana answered.

"Are we cool?"

Santana stopped walking again; they had reached the entrance to Brittany's street. "Britt. We're co-captains of the Junior Cheerios, we're practically already on the real Cheerios squad, _and_ Coach Sylvester has already talked to us about being captains. We're not even freshmen yet! You and I are the _coolest_ kids in basically all of Lima."

"Awesome." Brittany smiled and then suddenly took off at a run for her house.

"Hey!" Santana ran after her, her backpack thumping behind her as her feet pounded on the ground. She reached the front door of the Pierce's house right as Brittany entered it, both of them panting and immediately dropping their bags to the ground. "Not fair. You totally got a head start."

Brittany stuck her tongue out in triumph.

* * *

><p>It was a little after six o'clock when Mrs. Pierce pulled up in front of Matt Rutherford's house with Brittany and Santana excitedly unbuckling themselves from the backseat of the car. The sun was still high in the sky and far from setting; a definite sign that summer was on its way.<p>

"Now, what time does the party end again?"

"Ten," Santana answered promptly, checking to make sure that her jeans were properly rolled up into capris.

"And you know to ask Mrs. Rutherford to use the phone if you need me to come get you guys early, right?" Mrs. Pierce asked.

"San's got a cell phone," Brittany said, following her friend out of the car.

Mrs. Pierce smiled. "Just look at you two, already going to parties! I can't believe how much you girls have grown, best friends since the first grade..."

If it were her own mother, Santana would have scoffed and rolled her eyes, but instead she smiled politely and waved as Mrs. Pierce drove away. She grabbed onto Brittany's arm and led them up to the the front steps of the house, where Mrs. Rutherford answered the doorway and ushered the two in.

"Everyone's in the basement," she said with the same motherly smile that Brittany's mom had "There's pizza and snacks if you girls are hungry, and soda and water, too."

Santana still wore her same polite smile as she gave her thanks and walked quickly down the carpeted stairs with Brittany trailing behind her.

"Hey Matt! Lopez and Pierce are here!" Puckerman was the first to spot them as they descended the staircase, and Santana gave him a coy smile.

"Hey guys!" Matt called to them from the table with the food. He was opening up a box of pizza next to a cooler full of root bear and cola, and next to him Finn Hudson was pouring a bag of ice into a cooler full of water bottles.

Santana scoped out the party with Brittany attached to her hip. The usual crowd of football players and Junior Cheerios was there, and she was glad to see that no one annoying like Rachel Berry had weaseled their way into the party. Parties were for cool people, after all, and Rachel Berry, with her grandma-sweaters, was just the exact opposite.

"San, do you wanna' get some pizza?"

"Sure, Britt."

Brittany made a beeline for the food table, grabbing two paper plates and precariously placing a slice of cheese pizza on each. Santana made sure to grab water bottles instead of soda; she didn't want to get bloated with carbonation at a party, plus caffeine never sat well with Brittany.

"So, Santana," Matt said as he walked up to the two of them, "I heard that Coach Sylvester from the high school has already put you and Brittany on her cheerleading squad."

Santana swallowed her pizza and then smirked. "Pretty much. She's got a lot of seniors on the squad that are graduation, and they came really close to only getting second place at Nationals. She was super mad about that, and basically told Britts and me that we're the best newcomers she's ever seen. She practically hates the current members on the squad for almost losing, and pretty much told me that I had a chance of being captain. With Britt at my side, of course," she added, nudging the blonde next to her.

"I can dance better than all of them," Brittany stated matter-of-factly.

"Dude, you guys are gonna' be the most popular girls next year in high school!"

Santana gave a knowing shrug and said, "I know!"

Brittany and Santana finished off their pizza in silence, watching as Mike Chang danced in the middle of the room to the generic pop music that was playing out of the small stereo system. A couple of Junior Cheerios were gushing with each move he did, and it was Brittany this time who rolled her eyes.

"That's just basic stuff," she said.

"Hey Finn!" Puck called from where he was standing by the stereo. "You almost done with that?"

"Huh?" Finn looked dumbly down at his half-finished bottle of root bear. "Uh, gimme a sec." He chugged down the rest, receiving a _whoop_ from Azimio Adams and then burped loudly.

"Ugh. Boys can be so gross," Santana whispered to the blonde next to her.

Brittany looked sheepishly over with her mouth full of pretzels and Santana had to force herself not to smile.

"Alright, everyone!" Puck turned off the music and Mike stopped dancing, much to the dismay of the girls around him. "Who's up for a game of spin the bottle?" Finn handed him the now-empty root bear bottle and there was a murmur of approval as everyone awkwardly gathered into a circle and sat down in the middle of the basement.

"Wanna' go over the rules?" Matt asked, taking the bottle and placing it in the middle of the circle. "You're the king of this game."

Puck grinned. "'Course I am! Okay, well, you have to give the bottle a _good_ spin. None of this nudging it crap, and no stopping the bottle mid-spin. All kisses must last longer than five seconds; we'll be counting. And," his grinned turned mischievous, "you have to kiss _whoever_ the bottle lands on."

"Even if a dude spins and it lands on another dude?" Koroksky asked, looking mildly disgusted.

Puck thought for a moment, exchanging a few glances with Matt and Finn. "Yeah. It'll totally make it more interesting."

"Ew, man, that's so gay!" Korofsky exclaimed.

"If I wanted to see some guy dudes gettin' it on, I would've brought that Hummel boy here," Azimio spat.

"We doin' seven minutes in heaven, too?" Santana asked, changing the subject.

Puck smirked at her. "Only if I can get a round in with you, Lopez."

"We'll see about that," she gave him a sly look before falling into a fit of silent giggles with Brittany.

"It's you're party, Rutherford," Puck said, clearing his throat. "Why don't you take the first spin?"

"Don't mind if I do!" Matt licked his lips before spinning the bottle, and everyone waited in anticipation while it slowed down.

The bottle landed on Sarah Newman, who's face turned bright red to match her red curly hair. She wiped her palms on the knees of her jeans before leaning forward, meeting Matt halfway.

"Go on, guys! I'll be counting." Puck was enjoying himself far too much.

The kiss lasted exactly five seconds, and when they pulled apart, Sarah's face was even a darker shade of crimson than before.

Korofsky spun next; the bottle came close to landing on Finn but he lucked out and it landed right in front of a dark-haired girl named Allison. She didn't look to pleased at having to kiss David Korofsky, and she leaned in reluctantly, looking much happier when the five seconds were up.

Puck grinned again as he spun, the bottle moving in a perfect circle without wobbling. "My lucky day,"

Santana refrained from rolling her eyes and said, "Uh-huh. Sure. I bet you planned this, practicing your bottle spins and everything."

"Nope. The Puckster just has a good wrist."

"Whatever."

"You gonna' give me my full five seconds, Lopez?"

Santana raised an eyebrow. "It's your _lucky day_, remember? I might just give you six." She leaned in and kissed him, something she had been doing since seventh grade. Puck had definitely gotten better; he wasn't quite as sloppy as before, and true to her words, she gave him the extra second.

Matt hollered at them when they broke apart and a few girls had their hands clasped over their mouths to suppress their giggles.

"Alright Pierce, you're up," Matt said, patting Puckerman on the shoulder.

Brittany looked around nervously, turning the bottle around with timid hands. It took longer than the other spins as it wobbled around erratically until finally it stopped on the person sitting right next to her. The entire room froze and Santana's face heated up like a fire.

"You gotta' do it, those are the rules," Puck reminded them, almost eagerly.

Everyone in the circle was staring at them, most of them wide-eyed. Brittany was about to open her mouth to say something when Santana suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed their lips together, her mouth unconsciously slightly parted. Brittany tasted like a mix between LipSmackers and salt.

"Oh, man!"

Matt was counting the seconds and Santana let go of Brittany's shoulders right after he said, "Five!"

With a nonchalant shrug, Santana said, "No big deal."

Brittany composed herself and nodded, saying, "Yeah."

The game was less eventful after that. They were the only two girls that kissed, and after a comical spin where Mike's bottle landed on Finn (that one barely lasted two seconds), they had declared that spin the bottle was over.

"Are we still doing seven minutes in heaven?" Alison asked, crossing her arms and glancing ruefully at Korofsky.

"Heck yes we are!" Puck jumped up. "Everyone remember who their bottle landed on? 'Cause that's who you're gonna' be spending seven minutes with in the closet!"

"Uh, actually," Matt cut in, "the closet down here is a little too full of crap and whatnot. Let's just use the bathroom."

Puck shrugged noncommittally. "Fine by me. Mike and Finn, you guys can go first."

"What are the rules this time?" Azimio asked, snickering as Finn and Mike walked awkwardly towards the bathroom.

"Seven minutes, no less than that, and we reserve the right to grill you on what goes down in there," Puck said, receiving a nod of approval from Matt and a few of the other people.

"This is so stupid," Santana muttered.

As the bathroom door shut, they could hear Mike shouting, "OH FINN, YOU'RE JUST SO HOT. I LOVE YOU."

"C'mon Puckerman. Let's get this over with," Santana said immediately after the two boys came out of the bathroom to a rambunctious eruption of laughter and applause.

"Oh please, you know you _so_ like it," Puck said, letting her pull him into the tiny room. He shut the door and pulled her close. Santana had only made out with him once before, and though she would never admit it, it had been one of the most uncomfortable experiences of her life. Puck had practically thrown his tongue into her mouth and she had had no idea of what to do with it. She could only hope that this time it would be better and less stilted.

He crashed his lips into hers, pushing his tongue into her mouth.

"Hold your horses there, bucko," Santana murmured, pushing him off. "You've got a full six-and-a-half minutes to use."

Perhaps it had come from playing spin the bottle earlier, but Santana harbored a newfound confidence, and there was no way that she was going to let Noah Puckerman take control. She kissed him this time, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck and trying to take up as much time as possible before the inevitable tongue-action took place.

She kept her lips tight until she felt something wet press against them and almost reluctantly opened her mouth. She had a better idea of what to do, and thankfully, Puck wasn't as forceful with his tongue as he was before. Santana counted each second in her mind, moving her mouth uncertainly against his.

"Yo!" There was a loud knock on the door. "You two lovebirds done in there? Your seven minutes are up and Jenny and Azimio are waitin' to get in."

Santana nudged him off, discretely wiping her mouth and then smirking. "Happy now, Puckky boy?"

"You're good, Lopez."

Santana didn't respond to this and went back to where Brittany was standing.

"How was it?" Brittany asked as Matt and Finn began grilling Puck.

"It was..." Santana sighed, thinking. "It was Puck. So, y'know..."

Brittany nodded despite the fact that she didn't actually know and took a sip from her water bottle.

Azimio walked out of the bathroom looking very pleased with himself, but the girl, Jenny, only looked half-pleased, as if she were bored. As each couple entered the bathroom, Santana's heart would race faster and her cheeks would grow warmer. She kept glancing nervously at Brittany, who was fidgeting with her water bottle and having a half-hearted conversation with Mike Chang about dancing. Santana pulled her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and saw that it was almost nine-thirty; they had spent so much time playing these kissing games.

"Yo, Puck, who's in there now? It's been almost ten minutes!" Matt said, looking up from his watch.

"Adam Kroft and Sarah Newman. Aw, man! Adam's actually gettin' some." Puck laughed and ran up to the bathroom door, banging loudly on it. "You guys better not be headin' towards third-base in there! Your seven minutes have past."

It was another thirty or so seconds before the door open and Adam Kroft and Sarah Newman walked out, sheepish grins on their faces with their hands clasped together.

"Thought you were gonna' avoid this one, didn't ya'?" Puck said, walking up to Brittany and Santana. "I mean, I guess you guys could just fake it like Finn and Mike did."

Santana glared at him and Brittany dropped her water.

"C'mon," Santana took hold of Brittany's hand and led them into the bathroom; the entire room fell silent as everyone stared.

"Dude," Koroksky said, "Are they really gonna' do it?"

"They legit kissed, didn't they?" Puck reminded him, waggling his eyebrows.

"Sick!" Korofsky said, though whether he meant it in a good way or a bad way was unknown.

Santana closed the door, her mouth dry, and Brittany looked down at her feet.

"We don't have to do this," Brittany said, looking up at her best friend.

"Shh, keep your voice down," Santana moved closer and kept her voice low.

Brittany nodded. "Remember when you were sick and missed Mike Chang's birthday party last month?"

"Yeah, I was so pissed. Why?"

"We played seven minutes in heaven there and he pulled my name."

Santana was surprised. "You never told me that. Did you guys actually do it?"

Brittany cocked her head back and forth. "Sort of," she whispered.

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?'"

"We both didn't really know what we were doing. How was it with Puck?"

Santana hesitated for a moment; her heart was still racing and she knew they still had six minutes left. "Okay, I guess. I don't really have anything to compare it to."

Brittany shuffled closer, her legs pressing against Santana's. Her voice got even softer, "You're a good kisser, San."

Santana could smell Brittany's citrus lotion and the salt from the pretzels she ate earlier. Her heart was thumping so incessantly that it almost hurt. "You're not so bad yourself," she managed to choke out.

Brittany bit her lip, pushing Santana's dark hair out of the way and then Santana kissed her. Like the other times Santana had kissed Brittany, it was softer than any of the times she had kissed Puck, and if she really felt like telling the truth, it was better.

They broke apart for a split-second and then tilted their heads back towards each other. Brittany didn't shove her tongue into Santana's mouth like Puck had; it was slower and more timid. The back of Santana's legs had hit the cabinets under the sink, and she placed her hands on Brittany's waist while the blonde did the same.

For once, Santana didn't actually keep track of how much time there was left. Brittany was different. Nothing felt forced or as if it was just a game. This was her _best friend_. Santana knew it was wrong; she knew she should stop.

Brittany uncertainly swiped her tongue across Santana's bottom lip and she caved.

They were in there for over ten minutes, almost fifteen, before Matt knocked on the door.

"Crap," Santana breathed out, looking anywhere except at Brittany's blue eyes.

Brittany's face was pink. "Here, use this." She pulled out her LipSmackers from her pocket and Santana frantically uncapped it and rubbed it around her lips.

"What does this actually do?" she asked, handing the lip balm over to Brittany.

"It's supposed to help your mouth look less...makey-outy. I think."

Matt knocked on the door again. "Dude, _what_ are you guys doing in there?"

"Oh, man, d'you think they actually _did it_?" Puck asked from outside the bathroom.

Santana looked at herself in the mirror, straightening her shirt and running a hand through her hair. She then turned around and looked at Brittany, creasing out a few wrinkles on the blonde's tanktop and smiled.

"Pierce! Lopez! Let's go!" Puck shouted.

Santana's smile faltered and the panic began to set it.

"No one has to know," Brittany said in a low voice.

Santana took a deep breath and opened the door. She looked over her shoulder at Brittany and smirked, grabbing onto her hand.

"So, how'd it go?" Puck asked, blocking them from dispersing into the rest of the basement.

They both didn't say anything and then Puck continued with, "C'mon, you know the rules. We have the right to grill you on what went on in there." Finn and Matt nodded behind him.

"It's totally alright if two girls were getting it on," Azimio added in, receiving nods of agreement from the guys and looks of disapproval from the girls.

Santana glared at him, letting go of Brittany's hand except for their pinkies. Finally she said, "A lady never kisses and tells."

Puck snorted.

"Watch it, Puckerman," Santana snapped, walking her and Brittany over to where a few of the other Junior Cheerios were standing and starting up a conversation about tryouts the next month.

* * *

><p>Santana and Brittany were laying in the Pierce's guest bed with the lights turned off, staring up at the dark ceiling and talking in hoarse whispers. The clock on the sole nightstand flashed 2:36 in bright green numbers.<p>

"I don't wanna' have to do my speaking formative on Monday," Brittany lamented, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout.

Santana rolled over onto her side. "Why? You know I'm gonna' help you; you'll do fine."

"But what if I mess up like Korofsky did and I fail?" Brittany turned to face the Latina. "You know how I always confuse words, especially the conjugated ones that sound like English."

Santana thought for a moment because English words weren't conjugated and then said, "You mean the cognates?"

Brittany shrugged, the comforter moving with her shoulders.

Before Santana could say anything there was a loud knock on the door and Mrs. Pierce burst in, looking almost haggard. "You girls are still awake? Oh, good!"

"Mom, whats wrong?" Brittany asked as she and Santana sat up.

"Santana, you're father's on the phone. Your mother is in the hospital; she's in labor."

"What? But it's only June!"

"Come, get dressed. I'll drive you over," Mrs. Pierce flicked on the light and the two girls flinched at the brightness.

"Am I coming, too?" Brittany asked, pushing the comforter down.

It was Santana who answered with, "Of course you are!"

"Try and hurry up!" Mrs. Pierce before leaving and closing the door.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Santana frantically stripped off her pajamas and started pulling on the clothes that were thrown on the ground from when her and Brittany had changed into their sleep clothes. She realized that she had on Brittany's jeans when she noticed that they went way past her feet and practically tore them off in search of her own pants.

"Santana...San!" Brittany, still dressed in her sleep shorts but with the same shirt she wore to the party back on, placed her hands on Santana's shoulders and looked her straight in the eye. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."

Santana scanned her eyes all over Brittany's face, from her deep blue eyes to her tongue licking her dry lips. She remembered how that same tongue was in her own mouth just a few hours ago and she felt a jolt in her stomach that distracted her enough from the current situation.

"Okay. Yeah." Santana breathed.

She thought about Brittany's mouth the entire drive over to the hospital.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>I am eventually going to have to tough on the inevitable: Brittany and Santana sleeping together. I'm not usually one for smut (seriously, I have a tendency to just skip over that in stories), particularly anything graphic, so I haven't really decided if I'm going to actually include it or just brush over it and mention it more vaguely. I could _really_ use some opinions on that.


	5. Sobrinas

**Author's note: **I really think you guys, and by "you guys" I mean "anyone who just so happens to be reading this," should listen to Pink's _Glitter in the Air_. Aka where I got the title of this story from. It definitely plays a part in this, especially with some of the upcoming chapters. Callie's character is slowly starting to have a greater role, and this is getting a little closer to the _Glee_ time line.

I would like to mention how inconsistent the time line is on _Grey's Anatomy_. By that, I mean, how at the end of the fourth season the audience is lead to believe that it is May (or around that time), and then the fifth season starts off with a doctor getting impaled by an icicle when it's supposed to be two weeks after the previous finale. So, for the purpose of this chapter (and possibly future ones, too), it is somewhere around the time of the end of season four (of _Grey's_) and the beginning of season five.

* * *

><p>Callie could hear her phone ringing, its muffled chimes indicating a call. She had to be at work in six hours and the fact that she was awake, unable to find her ringing phone, was just simply not okay.<p>

She rolled off of the couch with a groan, wincing as she felt something rectangular dig into her abdomen and silent cursing Cristina for letting the apartment get so messy.

"Shit!" Callie hissed, getting up onto her knees and feeling around in the semi-darkness for anything that resembled her phone.

The device was on its second round of rings; clearly whoever was trying to contact her was calling again. Who would be incessantly calling her at this hour? The hospital would just page her if there was a problem there; she always left her pager on, after all. Cristina was asleep in the other room and seldom cared about essentially anything. Was it Mark, or Erica, suffering from some emergency that couldn't wait until a reasonable hour in the day?

She stuck her hand in between the couch cushions and found something hard. "Aha!" Callie pulled her phone out triumphantly, but her triumph soon passed when saw the name on the screen. The frantic, "Calliope! Thank god!" on the other end of the line did not do well to ease her nerves.

"Emilio? Is everything okay—is it Aria, or Santana—?"

* * *

><p>Santana could hear everything going on around her in muffled tones. She knew she was at the hospital, the hospital where her father worked, and she could hear doctors and nurses talking in hushed, urgent voices, patients being wheeled away, and family members asking questions. She recognized the voice of one nurse, the one who would always give her candy when she was younger, and Santana smiled against the darkness of her closed eyes.<p>

The noises around her grew louder as she slipped further back into consciousness, and she felt warm, very warm. It was almost as if someone had wrapped her in a fleece blanket, but she knew her arms were bare. Against her own will, Santana opened her eyes, immediately squinting despite the fact that the lights in the waiting room were dim. She registered the dark green pattern on the chairs in the room, noticing that across from her, Mrs. Pierce was sipping on coffee and Mr. Pierce was reading a magazine. Where was Brittany?

The warmth was drawing Santana back, telling her to go back to sleep. At least two, if not three hours had to have gone by since they arrived at the hospital. Santana felt something shift behind her, and she realized that the overwhelming warmth was a body; Brittany's body.

"Hey," a voice croaked out.

Santana tried sitting up, found it to be too difficult, and settled for turning her head and looking up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

Brittany smiled sleepily. "S'okay. You're super warm and cozy."

Santana hoped the dim lighting would mask the pink tinge making it's way to her cheeks. "You make an awesome pillow."

"Oh, good. You girls are awake," Mr. Pierce said, setting down the magazine and walking up to the row of chairs they taken over.

Santana managed to sit up for real this time, running a hand through her hair and perking herself up. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I just spoke to your father, Santana, and he said that they had to take your mother into an emergency c-section," Mr. Pierce explained calmly. Brittany looked mildly worried, particularly upon hearing the word "emergency," but Santana knew that it was nothing too scary.

"So she's okay? The baby is fine?"

"Yes, it seems so." Mr. Pierce smiled.

Santana nodded, comprehension setting in and relief washing over her. She leaned back into the cushions, her legs touching Brittany's. The blonde took hold of Santana's limp hand, lacing their fingers in a comforting way. Santana looked over at her friend and Brittany gave a small smile.

"Are you girls hungry?" Mr. Pierce asked, glancing down at his watch.

"Yeah, I can take us to the cafeteria," Santana said, standing up and letting go of Brittany's hand. Brittany stood up, too, but with her smile gone.

"Honey," Mrs. Pierce called to her husband. "I've got some cash—"

Santana cut her off, shaking her head. "Don't worry about it; they know who I am down there."

Mrs. Pierce was slightly taken aback. "Oh. Okay, then, if you're sure..."

Santana nodded again. "C'mon, Britt." She yawned, stretching her arms out, and then took hold of Brittany's hand as they left the waiting room and into the hallway.

"Do they have hot chocolate?" Brittany asked, swinging her and Santana's clasped hands back and forth.

"Mmmhm." Santana paused. She turned her head and eyed a man in a white coat that looked sort of like an older version of Puck. "Hi, Doctor Thompson."

"Santana!" Doctor Thompson grinned, walking over to the two of them. "Why, I haven't seen you in years! You've grown so much."

Brittany recognized the smile plastered on Santana's face as the same one she would use around the football players.

"Yes, it's been a while." Santana moved her hands behind her back, unthreading her fingers with Brittany except for their pinkies.

"Now, I heard from the nurses that your mother is here. Is everything alright?"

"Well, she went into labor a few hours ago, even though she wasn't supposed to be due for another two months. She went in for an emergency c-section, but everything seems to be okay." Santana rattled this information off with ease; she was definitely a doctor's daughter.

"I'm glad to hear that she's okay," Doctor Thompson said, emphasizing his point with the chart in his hands. "Well, it was good to see you, Santana. If I don't happen to see him, tell your father I said congratulations; I really need to go get some lab results." With one final wave, Doctor Thompson rounded a corner, his white coat fluttering behind him.

"You know everyone here," Brittany remarked. She began swinging their hands again, linked together by their pinkies.

Santana shrugged. "Just a few of the nurses and some of the doctors that my dad is friends with. And the people in the cafeteria," she added.

"That's still a lot of people. Important people."

Santana didn't say anything. She was still tired and she was still a little worried about her mother (but she would never admit that last part). When they reached the cafeteria they found it to be remotely empty, sans for a few staff members working the late shift and one or two family members.

"Hi, can I get two hot chocolates and a blueberry muffin?"

The woman at the counter nodded, pulling out a plastic tray and placing a plate with the muffin on it. About a minute later she returned with two styrofoam cups steaming with hot chocolate.

"Thanks." Santana took the tray down to where a grey-haired woman was standing behind a cash register and plastered a smile onto her face again.

"Santana Lopez, is that you?"

"Yup," Santana slid the tray on the metal counter.

"It's nearly five in the morning; don't tell me you came into work with your father," the woman said, punching in a few numbers on the register.

"Uh, no. My mother's here. She went into early labor."

"Oh my! Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, she and the baby are fine." Santana stopped her explanation there, not wanting to delve into the full details of the emergency c-section.

"Well, congratulations to your family. Perhaps your father will bring the Little Lopez down for a visit soon."

Santana took the tray. "Aha, maybe." She left the counter without paying; it would all go onto her father's credit anyway (he bought a muffin and coffee every morning upon arriving to work and hadn't legitimately payed since his residency).

Brittany was sitting at a nearby table, resting her head on her hand with her eyes fluttering open and closed.

"Here," Santana said, sitting down across from her. She placed the cup of hot chocolate in front of the blonde and put the muffin in between them. "Blow on it, first," she said, pointing towards the drink.

Brittany nodded, murmuring, "Okay." She always trusted what Santana had to say; they've been best friends since they were six, and the Latina had never steered her wrong. Doing just as she was told, Brittany blew on the hot beverage, enjoying as it made holes in the brown liquid, before carefully bringing it up to her mouth.

They drank in silence, picking at the muffin between them; it was stale, definitely left over from the previous morning.

* * *

><p>"I thought you could use this,"<p>

Callie lifted her head up, acknowledging the cup of coffee being set in front of her with gratefulness. "Thanks," she said breathlessly.

"You okay?" Erica asked, taking a sip of her own coffee and looking down at the other woman with thoughtful eyes.

"I didn't get much sleep last night," Callie said, proving her point with a yawn.

Just then, Cristina rounded on the nurses table, her signature bored expression stuck on her face. "You woke me up last night, Torres. Who were you talking to that was so frantic and important?"

"Oh, um, my brother-in-law."

Before Cristina could say anything, Erica opened her mouth and said, "Yang, I don't have any surgeries for you, so you can quit trolling around. Go to the pit, or something."

Cristina stared open-mouthed at the blonde attending for a moment before rolling her eyes and stalking off.

"Y'know, you should really be nicer to her. She's actually pretty good," Callie said, turning the hot cup around in her hand.

Erica ignored that comment and said, "So what's the deal with your brother-in-law; is everything okay?"

Callie yawned again. "Oh, yeah. Everything's fine."

* * *

><p>It was nearing noon before Santana was allowed to see her mother and, of course, her baby sister. Clarita Lopez was born "officially" at seven-thirty-two in the morning, and after some precautionary tests to make sure that she was healthy despite being almost two months premature, the doctors had declared her well enough to be with her mother.<p>

At this point, though, Santana's mother was asleep and her father was talking to a nurse in hushed voices. Despite insistence from both Lopez parents (before Mrs. Lopez fell asleep), the Pierce's were still at the hospital, happy to watch the newly-grown family interact from afar.

Santana was sitting in a chair near her mother's bed, her dark hair framing her face, bags under her eyes, and her baby sister in her arms. Her lips were itching to turn upwards as she cradled the sleeping child but she refused to let them; after spending seven months complaining about the new addition to the family, there was no way she was going to show any form of happiness now that she was here.

"Britt," Santana whispered.

"Hm?" Brittany had been standing outside the doorway with her parents, dosing off against her father's arm.

"Can you grab my phone? It's in my left pocket." Santana gently adjusted her arms so Brittany could pull out the device.

"Do you want me to text Puck for you? I think I've figured out the numbers and the letters,"

Santana shook her head. "Can you take a picture? All you have to do is press the big button on the side of the phone, and then the circular one in the middle."

With her tongue between her teeth, Brittany tried to figure out Santana's phone. Finally, after about a minute or two, she managed to snap a shot of Clarita, safe in the arms of her older sister.

Santana smiled, her earlier thoughts notwithstanding.

* * *

><p>Callie was walking across the bridge when she felt her phone vibrating in the pocket of her scrubs. She tucked her chart under her arm and leaned against the railing, pulling out her cell phone. The chief walked by, nodding to her in acknowledgment, and she nodded back.<p>

She looked back down at the name flashing on the screen—_Sobrina Santy—_and smiled when she flipped her phone open. Before her was a picture of a teenage girl with black hair that matched her own, framing her smile-ridden face, holding a tiny person wrapped in pale-pink blankets. Underneath of it, the caption read: "Your TWO sobrinas miss you!"

Callie almost cried.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>_Sobrina_ is Spanish for _niece_. Also, the rating is probably going to go up soon.


	6. Grilled Cheese and Seltzer

"You're so pretty, San," Brittany whispered, tucking Santana's dark hair behind her ear.

Santana crossed her legs, the bed moving underneath of her. She looked forward at her best friend's face, blue eyes staring straight at her with such sincerity that her breath got caught in her chest. Brittany Pierce was gorgeous.

"I like kissing you, too," Brittany said, smiling shyly. "A lot."

Santana licked her lips. "Kiss me," she said hoarsely.

"Hm?" Brittany leaned forward, her shy smile taking a sly turn.

"Kiss me, Brittany."

Brittany closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together. It started off soft, and gentle, until Santana craved more and pushed herself closer to the blonde so that she was almost straddling her. She ran her fingers through Brittany's hair, stopping when she got to the bottom of her head and left her hands there. They broke apart for a moment to catch their breaths, and Brittany smiled.

"You're so good, San. So good…"

And that's when Santana Lopez woke up, her palms sweaty, her mouth dry, and her lips unusually chapped.

"Crap," Santana muttered, sitting up and glancing over at the clock on her dresser. It flashed 10:24 in red, digital numbers. This was the latest she had been able to sleep in all summer.

It had been over a month since her baby sister had been born, and nearly everyday Santana had been woken up at various hours ranging from two am to eight am from her sister crying.

"Mija!" Santana's mother called, "Are you up yet?"

Santana groaned. "Yes, mother!"

She flopped back down onto her pillow and stared up at the stark ceiling. She had a dream. About Brittany. About _kissing_ Brittany. She had a dream about kissing Brittany, her best friend, and she _enjoyed it_. At least, in the dream she did. There was no way that she could actually enjoy kissing Brittany, because Brittany was a girl. They only kissed as practice for when they would be kissing boys, or for when they were at parties and the rules of spin the bottle complied.

Right. The dream must have been a fluke, Santana convinced herself. She didn't actually _want_ to make out with Brittany S. Pierce.

"Mija!" Santana's mother called again, "Brittany's on the phone for you!"

Santana's stomach did a back flip.

"Uhm, I'll be down in a sec!"

Santana pushed the blankets off and got out of bed, running a brush through her hair before going downstairs. She walked into the kitchen and took the phone from her mother's hand without a word, taking a silent, deep breath before putting it up to her ear.

"Hey, Britt."

"San!" Brittany said from the other line. "Matt Rutherford is having another party tonight!"

"How do you know?"

"Mike told me at dance rehearsal last night, but then I forgot to tell you then. He said that you and I were definitely invited. Does this mean we're popular?"

Santana smirked. "Duh, Britt. We've always been popular. What time does it start?"

"Uhm, I don't remember…"

"Probably eight, or somethin'. That's when they usually start."

"Yeah, I guess," Brittany said. "Can you come? I think my mom can drive again."

"I dunno, let me ask," Santana held the phone to her shoulder and then turned to face her mother. "Matt Rutherford is having another party tonight. Can I go? Brittany said her mom can drive."

Mrs. Lopez put the bowl she was drying down on the counter. "You're father and I aren't going to be home tonight, remember? We have that event down at the hospital."

Santana frowned. "Ugh, so I'm on babysitting duty again?"

"Well," Mrs. Lopez thought for a moment, "I suppose we could leave Clarita in the hospital nursery…"

"Pleeeaaase! I had to ditch Britt and babysit last week!"

"All right. But Matt's parents are going to be there, right?"

Santana shrugged. "His mom was there last time."

"Okay, but I want you home by 10:30, and call me when you get there and when you leave."

"Yes, mother," Santana said, quickly bringing the phone back up to her ear. "I can go!"

"Yay!" Brittany squealed. "You can come over now, if you want. We can get ready together and stuff."

"Britt, it's not even eleven yet," Santana said, rolling her eyes.

"I'm just…excited. Matt's parties are the best; I liked the one we went to last time."

Santana froze. Her face grew warm and her heart started to thump faster and louder. "You did?"

"Yeah, didn't you?"

"Yeah…of course. Listen, Britt, I'll call you in a few hours when I'm ready to come over, kay?"

"Okay, San!"

Santana hung up the phone and placed it down on the kitchen table. Her mother was back to drying dishes, so she walked out of the room without a word and hurried back up the stairs to her room.

This was a summer party, not a spring party like last time; she needed to find the perfect outfit that showcased how she was no longer a middle-schooler, but now a high-schooler. Matt didn't have a pool in his backyard like some of the other kids, so that meant no bathing suit. Santana pulled open all of her drawers and searched relentlessly for something to wear.

Jeans? No, it was too warm. A t-shirt would be lame and tacky, and if she wanted to look like Rachel Berry then maybe she'd wear a sweater. Santana huffed, slamming shut the bottom drawer that held her long-sleeved shirts. It would be so much easier in high school when all she'll have to do is put on her Cheerios uniform everyday.

After another fifteen minutes of tearing through her entire wardrobe, Santana settled on a dress that her abuelos from Florida had sent her for her birthday. It was a pale yellow and form fitting; Santana was actually surprised that she liked something her grandparents had picked out for her. She didn't want to wear the dress just yet, so she folded it neatly and placed it into a bag to bring to Brittany's house; she could get dressed there.

After a shower where she promptly used up all of the hot water in order to make sure that her legs were perfectly shaved and smooth, Santana merely threw on a tank top and a pair of shorts before heading back down to the kitchen with her bag. Her mother was there with Clarita, pointing to a bird flying outside from the window and murmuring something in Spanish.

"What time are you going over to Brittany's, mija?"

Santana shrugged. "Whenever. The party isn't 'till eight, but she said I could come over sooner."

"I'll make you some lunch first," Mrs. Lopez said with a smile. "I was thinking about going for a walk with Clarita later; it's such a nice day. I can walk with you to Brittany's house."

Santana was mildly skeptical of her mother's sudden willingness to dote on her. Her mother hadn't actually made Santana her lunch since she was at least ten. By the time Santana hit fifth grade, she was relegated to either buying her lunch at school or just making it herself.

"Oh-kay…"

"How does grilled cheese sound?"

"Uh, that's fine." Santana watched her mother place a squirming Clarita into her high chair while she sat down at the kitchen table.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the kitchen was of Mrs. Lopez cooking the grilled cheese in a pan over the stove. Santana spent the time sticking her tongue out at her sister, trying to make her laugh.

After another few minutes, Mrs. Lopez set a plate down in front of her daughter with the sandwich cut in half, and a glass of seltzer water next to it.

"Since when do we have seltzer?" Santana asked, taking a sip of it.

"Oh, I had to get a few things at the grocery store yesterday, so I picked up a bottle. I know how much you and your father like it."

"Awesome," Santana said with a shrug. She took a bite out of her sandwich and chewed silently, still skeptic over her mother.

Finally, her mother spoke: "Now, mija, I know this past month or so has been hard on you. You've been having to miss out on spending time with your friends and having fun in order to help with your sister, and you're father and I really do appreciate that. You're really growing up."

Santana swallowed.

"We—your father and I—have been thinking. You're going off to high school and you're going to be so busy with your studies and friends, and being a cheerleader. We don't want you to have to miss out on anything."

"So…what are you trying to say?"

Mrs. Lopez smiled again. "Your abuela is going to move in with us."

"Wait—which one?" Santana asked without even thinking about it.

"Abuelita. Now that your other abuelo has passed…she's been rather lonely, and your father thinks it will help to have his mother around, especially with Clarita. His job is so demanding, and I can't stay away from the university for too long since I've been promoted to the head of the department."

Santana sighed, taking another sip of the seltzer. For some reason, she thought that what her mother was going to say would be much worse. But perhaps that was only because her mother had always told her the worst things while in the kitchen. Regardless, Santana was relieved. She often saw her abuela because she lived just on the other side of Lima, in a retirement home.

"So, that's it?" Santana took another bite.

Her mother nodded. "Yes. We just wanted to let you know in advanced. Are you okay with this?"

Swallowing, Santana nodded. "Of course. Now I don't have to be stuck on babysitting duty everyday after school. I can like, actually _do_ things."

"I'm glad this worked out, then!"

Santana went back to eating her lunch, still wary of her mother. Mrs. Lopez sat at the table for a few more minutes before getting up and muttering something about the event at the hospital that night, leaving Clarita in her high chair. Santana rolled her eyes and Clarita giggled, spit leaking out of her mouth. With a sigh, Santana pushed her chair back, getting up to grab a towel, and walked over to her sister.

"You're lucky I like you," Santana said, wiping her sister's mouth. Clarita responded by giving Santana a blank expression.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>It's been a while, eh? I'm sure by now everyone and their mother knows just how much I suck at updating on a consistent basis. I have a few weeks off from school (winter break aw yeah) and I pretty much hate my life right now, so I figured I'd take a step back into the world of fanfic and give some of my stories an update.

I already have an outline for the next chapter (shocker!) so hopefully it won't be another year until I update...but I make no promises. Also, get excited 'cause everyone's favorite bitch aka Quinn Fabray is going to be making her fourteen-year-old appearance soon. Cheerios tryouts, anyone?


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